


Cater to the Patient

by bestwithalisp, kassanovella



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Choking, Dirty Talk, Dom!Kylo Ren, Dubious Consent, F/M, Kylo Ren has no impulse control, Medic!Reader, Naked Female Clothed Male, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader-Insert, Shameless Smut, Smut, Verbal Humiliation, When bandage-changing goes wrong, ashgate 2k16, sub!Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-08-17 02:48:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8127460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bestwithalisp/pseuds/bestwithalisp, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kassanovella/pseuds/kassanovella
Summary: Kylo Ren's abdomen wound requires precise care, and you're the best medic for the job. Unfortunately, he's not a fan of receiving company. Or you.





	

“Temperamental” wasn’t the word to describe Kylo Ren. “Frustrating,” maybe. “Aggravating” was a good one too. You might have even just gone with “ridiculous” depending on the day. And on bandage-changing day, you went with _ridiculous_.

With Kylo Ren, you usually needed to take twice the amount of supplies than you’d typically need for a man of his size. He had the annoying habit of fussing and fighting any attempt you’d make to help, dedicated to some bizarre desire to prove himself strong—or something, you didn’t know. So you arrived at his quarters with two bags full of bandages, bacta and sedatives (something you kept—just in case), sighing as you waited to be let in.

When the hatch opened, he wasn’t there. He never was. You strolled in, dropping one of the bags at the entrance, starting into one of the rooms when he emerged, and stopped you. More irritation. He’d known you’d arrived to change his bandages, yet he was still fully dressed. Not only a gifted Force-user. No, Kylo Ren was also gifted at wasting your time.

“I’ve told you before, Commander,” you said. “I need you undressed and prepared for wound care when I arrive.”

Kylo Ren was silent, instead choosing to withdraw to the room. Rolling your eyes, you followed him. His quarters were large—unusually so—yet it was clear that despite that, Kylo Ren spared little thought or time to making them in any way livable. You’d never been in this room, but you weren’t surprised to discover that everything was bare, apart from a few sparse furnishings and, near the center, a table full of ash.

 _Ashes_?

Raising your eyebrows in acceptance of this bizarre inclusion, you turned to Ren, who was seated in one of the chairs, hunched over, elbows on his knees. _Even more irritation._

“Commander.” Your voice was sugary-sweet. “Please be careful with the way you sit. You could cause your wounds to bruise or re-open if you put too much pressure on them.”

He glared at you, stone-faced. Brown eyes closed in thought, while full, pink lips (which you’d always liked, just too bad they were always in a frown) twisted in ire.

“That’s of no concern to me.”

Groaning, you stomped to his chair, plopping down your bag and tilting his chin toward you. The scar on his face was healing acceptably. It wasn’t as nice as you would have preferred—but he insisted on constantly _messing_ with it, and would never, ever wear the dressings you provided him with for more than an hour or two.

“This scar would look so much cleaner if you’d just leave it alone,” you teased, and smirked at him. But he must have not as found the comment as amusing as you did. His eyes held you in contempt, distant fires of rage in his pupils. _Stars, he was cranky today._ You sighed. “Okay, Commander. Let’s get you undressed so we can take care of your abdomen.”

Yet–-even with your orders-–he remained still. 

“Sir, we’ve been through this so many times.” You gestured to his awkward posture. “Must we argue at every treatment session?”

He huffed, eyes narrowing–-seething in what you could only assume was pure abhorrence towards you. 

“No. Your job is to cater to the _patient_. I’ve informed you several times that I don’t wish to have company–-be it from an officer or you–-while this heals.” He motioned to the wound at his stomach covered by his loose attire.

Your eyebrows furrowed in frustration. _Was he actually rolling out his version of your job description_? You let out a long sigh–-thankful you could reiterate your reply kindly instead of calling him an outright pompous prick.

“As you said, my job is to ‘cater to the patient’. My duty is to treat your incisions appropriately so you–-our Commander-–don’t fall ill or die. Please, sir, your shirt. The sooner this is over, the sooner I can leave you alone.”

He folded his arms tight across his chest–-biceps flexing in a defensive manner. You had assumed he did it to make things more difficult, but all you could think of was how the cut on his shoulder was probably pulling apart again.

Your patience was draining quickly, and when you noticed his arms were lifted enough, you made your approach. You bent over and your arm shot out quickly to fumble with the fabric of his leisure shirt, giving it a short tug upwards to reach his stomach. You had just exposed the wide bandage covering his abdomen when you felt five fingers wrapping easily around your wrist, holding it suspended over his wound. Wincing at his grip, you jerked your arm back in an effort to break free, with no success.

“C-Commander, please.” And for a moment you looked back up at him–-almost pleading, “Please, sir, let me do this.” He pulled you in closer. _Okay, maybe you overstepped your boundaries this time._ You tried to steady a shaking breath, managing your words as carefully as possible. “Please sir.” The stinging of his hand was making you lose focus. “You’re weak.”

Fire blazed his features. For all the times he was unimpressed with your presence, this was far worse than any scathing insult.

His nostrils were flaring, lips parting as they shivered in unadulterated rage. His other hand shot against your neck, thumb gripping around your vein. You clenched your teeth at the new ache, and your body was drawn towards his face. 

“So much contempt in that mind of yours for me.” He inspected you like you were an experiment. “I’ve asked you one too many times to quit frequenting this area, and yet you _still_ continue to defy my orders.”

He loosened his grip on you, raising himself to his full height and taking you by the neck with him. His face twisted into a small smirk while he watched you writhe under his wrist. The nagging professional in your mind could only imagine what was being torn apart at his abdomen by holding you this way, but you were losing the will to care. 

“If you won’t heed my words, perhaps you need _another_ type of proof that you and your impertinent mind are no longer needed here.” He lifted you further for a moment and shoved your rear into the pile of dried ashes supplying the table. 

He released your neck only to fist two bunches of your shirt and tear it right down the middle, finally stopping at the thick hem. The fabric hung off of your shoulders and you looked at him in horror. You legs dangled against his stomach and his palms were pressed against the steel on either side of your haphazard seat, trapping you from any avenue of escape. 

Your lip quivered and you tried to bite back a scream. Instead, you inhaled a sharp breath and whispered, “ _Please_ , s-sir–-don’t do this.”

Eyes still wild, he snatched your chin, pinching your cheeks, his gaze darting up and down your vulnerable body. “Do what?”

Any attempt to inch away from him was met with failure, and you whimpered, meeting his blazing stare. “Sir,” you said, “I was just here doing my job. There’s… there’s no _need_ for this.” You swallowed the rest of your courage. “Please.”

He sniffed in derision, stepping back, scrutinizing every inch of your figure. Under his intense eyes, your skin erupted in gooseflesh, and as he lingered on your exposed chest, you felt a mixture of disgust, shame, and— _shit_ —reluctant arousal flood you. The latter posed the biggest issue—it was making your thighs tense, your fingers shake, the hair on your neck stand on end. When his gaze flicked back to yours—his irises a potent mixture of fury and lust—your core clenched.

_This couldn’t be happening._

Kylo Ren pulled your legs apart, shoving himself between them, his breath quickening. “Are you sure there’s no _need_?”

You swallowed again, nodding. Had he felt it? “Just—let me change your bandages. And I’ll leave, sir. I promise.”

“A pleasant thought.” His fingers burrowed into the tender flesh of your thighs. “But now I don’t want you to leave.”

Hot, pure desire flashed in your belly. Where did you put those damn sedatives? You didn’t have time to consider their location before Kylo Ren’s face was in your neck, sucking—no, biting—hard and desperate marks into your flesh. Behind you, his hands were working the strap of your bra, his strength holding you in place as he nibbled his way up to your jaw.

“Still think I’m _weak_?” he purred. Your bra was unhooked, now, and he was sliding the straps down your arms and pulling it off.

“No, sir!” you said, wincing. “I can see you no longer need my assistance, sir!”

He huffed—a laugh, you thought. “Oh, no,” he said. “I still require your assistance.” A large hand circled your wrist, placing your palm against the hard, urgent bulge between his legs. You shuddered and clenched, heart skipping in your chest. He was _massive_. “Think you can help me with that, nurse?”

You gulped, ignoring the pang of hunger from your sex. “Sir, this is—“ He gripped your hand as you tried to jerk it away. “This is _highly_ unethical, and–-”

A chuckle. That was a real laugh. “Ethics.” His hands moved to your pants, and he started to unlatch them. “You sit in a pile of my victims. What use have I for ethics?”

At that, you flailed—or, at least, you tried—anxious to escape his clutches and get the _hell_ off of that table. But to no avail. He was far too strong, and held you firm. “Commander–”

“Stop _squirming_.”

The latches were undone now, and he yanked them down your hips, trying to rock you onto your back so he could slide them over your ass—but you held onto his arms to steady yourself, heart pounding. Yet there was a part of you that wanted to lean back, to let him tear your clothing free. How was it possible to want and hate someone at the same time?

“Stubborn girl,” he growled, and shoved you into the pile of ash.

You screamed, not wanting to breathe in the dust of dead men—but the mist of falling ash still managed to catch in your eyes, and sprinkle your face. The churning in your stomach was overridden by a burning between your legs as Kylo Ren managed to work your pants up your thighs. He tore off your shoes and then removed your trousers entirely–-and instead of taking off your panties, he was pulling them to the side, lips parted, breath catching as your glistening cunt was revealed to him.

“Filthy thing,” he snarled. “Your body has betrayed your _ethics_.” He smirked, leering at you. “You want me to fuck this cunt-–hm? Show you how strong I am?”

His words evoked a mewl from your throat, and you cursed your eager body as your core pulsed in plain view. Every word fighting to leave your mouth was a _yes _, and even still, you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d broken you. So, instead, you were silent, glaring at him with a fractured defiance.__

__One massive hand held your belly down against the table, while the other tore into the waistband of his trousers, pulling them down just enough to free himself. Your breath hitched-–eyes drifting to glance at his cock, and, _fuck_ he was so much bigger than you had expected. You whined out a short _oh_ –-enough to snap your mind back into place and turn your face back up to his. _ _

__He pressed into you further, palm sliding from your stomach to curl your leg around his waist. His other hand fell to your lower back to force you forward and position you against him. You tried to wriggle from his grip but it only made him latch his fingers into your flesh harder._ _

__“Stop _moving. Now_.” His words were dripping with contempt. When he was finally satisfied with your stance, he pinned your hips down with both of his hands. "Stop fighting what your body already wants _so_ badly. Maybe you’ll even _enjoy_ it.“_ _

__One of his hands drifted back down to your center, pulling your panties back over to the side and rubbing the knuckle of his forefinger over the sticky film your cunt created._ _

__“Disgusting. Quite possibly the _worst_ nurse in the medbay. Wanting the cock of her Commander so badly.” His voice conveyed nothing short of a _tsking_ reprimand._ _

__His digits left your sex and, for some horrific reason, you _moaned_ at the vacancy. The memory wasn’t soon forgotten as he fisted his cock at the base and rubbed it against your clit. _ _

__“Tell me how badly you want it. How _desperate_ you are for me.”_ _

__Your eyes were stuck on the repugnant image before you. _This was going to happen_. And, gods, did you ever want it now. Your mind was clouding over with lust, mouth agape. _ _

__Still, no words came out to entertain the Commander’s request._ _

__His thick fingers gripped nearly all the way around your neck, experimenting and cinching around your vein, knocking you in and out of coherent thought. He pulled you forward by your throat until you were only inches from his face._ _

__“ _Say it_.”_ _

__He loosened his grip just enough for you to choke out the words._ _

__“Please, C-Commander! Please I want it! I want it so bad!”_ _

__And that was all it took. He caught himself at your entrance and pushed himself into you–-fast and hard. His girth burned you, the sensation failing to dissipate before he plunged into you again. You let out a garbled shriek-–stopping short as he flexed his fingers around your throat once again._ _

__“ _Fuck_ , I’ve been wanting to do this to your disobedient cunt since I saw you wandering around the medbay-–doe-eyed, _ignorant_. You have no idea that I’ve been planning this for weeks, now.” He snapped hard into your cervix, moaning half-intelligible profanity over how good you felt. His pace was unpredictable, making you jerk away from him, but his hold on you was too overwhelming. He came to his senses for half a moment–-if only to mutter a small threat. “And who will you tell? Who would _believe_ that you were defiled over the Commander’s tray of incinerated enemies?”_ _

__He shook your neck and clenched his fingers, driving into you until it caused your tits to bounce from his unyielding force. You felt ash sticking and smearing around the underside of your hips and thighs–-swallowing you as you fell further into the pile with each thrust. Your emotions dispersed into your mind–-breaking themselves down and restructuring into only the raw, aggressive feeling of him inside of you. How stupefied his cock made you-–how quickly he was pulling you to an orgasm you fought so hard to withhold before this._ _

__He was pounding into you like a savage. A predator with purpose. Harsh slapping of his flesh against yours, light squeaks of your legs glowing with sweat and being drug against the steel. The only thing stopping you from falling backwards was the unrelenting hold he kept around your neck. He was treating you like a fuck doll--someone to use while his emotions radiated off of him._ _

__You were so close, but you needed that extra stimulation. Something-– _anything _-–to press against your clit and pull it out of you. You choked out the harsh _C_ sound of his title, but his grip was tightening the closer he came to his climax. It didn’t deter you though--by this point you _wanted_ to cinch around him. You wanted him to feel like he was wholly in control of you. So you continued to sputter through mangled breaths to get his attention.___ _

____Kylo Ren laughed through his breathless thrusting. “Poor thing,” he said. “Can’t ask for what you—fuck—can’t ask for what you want, can you?”_ _ _ _

____An alien noise—half grovel, half grinding groan—vibrated in the depths of your throat, and through it, you pieced together a single word: “ _Please_.”_ _ _ _

____But he was merciless, holding you tighter, snarling as he drove into you again and again, his gasping lungs evidence of his own nearing climax. “Please _what_?”_ _ _ _

____Streams of sweat slipped down your back as you fought to speak—you wondered how clumped the ash looked below you. “Cum,” you croaked. “Let me cum…”_ _ _ _

____The hand at your hip shifted—his thumb slipping under your panties and ghosting over your stiff, swollen nub, teasing it back and forth, in rhythm with his rabid pace. Pleasure hit you like a sucker-punch, a heavy wave pummeling your nerves, and you moaned, pulsing and clenching around him in delight. Kylo Ren growled, stroking your clit faster, the tightness of your cunt dragging him to the edge._ _ _ _

____“Desperate little girl,” he hissed. “Cum on this cock. Let me fill you.”_ _ _ _

____His permission seemed to grant your body its release, and you cried out, shuddering and shaking as your orgasm coursed through you, the throbbing of your walls pulling Kylo Ren with you into his own climax. He was violent—furious, almost—pinning you back down into the ashes, your pulse fluttering against his fingers as he pumped you full of his seed, primal noises leaving him with every seizing of his hips._ _ _ _

____After a moment, he slowed, and then stopped entirely, falling almost harmless as he released your neck, panting and chasing breath. He pulled out of you, wincing as he did, and you craned your head up and saw it—he’d lifted his shirt to reveal his busted abdomen wound, bleeding out into his dressing. You rolled your eyes, resigning yourself to the ash for a moment, and plopped your head back into it. Kylo Ren grunted as he sat back into the chair, limp as a rag._ _ _ _

____The viscous mixture of your cum was leaking into the pile underneath you, now, and you cringed. Not only were you sweaty, stained, and dripping—but you were basically bathing in cremains, too. You sighed, unsure of where to move next. Your body was burning with humiliation, and you wanted nothing more than to drop into a black hole._ _ _ _

____Kylo Ren finally steadied himself, rising again. “Come.” His voice couldn’t sound more dull or emotionless. “After bathing, you may complete your assignment.” Without another word, he strode into the refresher._ _ _ _

____Your mind was spinning. Bathe? With Kylo Ren? And then dress his wound? Hadn’t he just wanted you to leave him alone?_ _ _ _

____Nothing was making sense today. Part of you hoped that in only seconds you’d wake up, unsullied, in realization this was a terrible dream. But then an aftershock of your orgasm rippled over you, reminding you how real this was–how his cock had felt inside of you, how _good_ he’d made you feel. _ _ _ _

____No, you decided. This wasn’t that bad at all._ _ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> ASHGATE 2K16!~! Ashpit sex is such a weakpoint for us, like, how can we not write it?
> 
> If you haven't guessed, we love dirty talking, humiliation, and dubcon. wHOOPS.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Hope y'all liked it! <3


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